


neverending

by fourthdimnsion



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Blood, Nightmares, Proof Read Once, din djarin needs to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourthdimnsion/pseuds/fourthdimnsion
Summary: Things might've ended for now, but Din is still haunted.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 116





	neverending

**Author's Note:**

> it's kinda impossible to not think about how din has trouble in sleeping after seeing last week's episode. anyway i did this in a rush so.. sorry if there's any mistake. enjoy!

Din drifted off. Then, something pulled him back into his seat.

He blinked a few times. His heart ached even though he could feel Grogu snuggling against his chest, softly purring as he gently held him and caressed his back. Din looked down, and a short, peaceful feeling crossed the back of his mind with the sight of his child being safe once more. 

The Mandalorian sighed, and allowed himself to close his eyes, trying again. 

  
  


He heard buttons being clicked beneath him, Fennec’s calm breath, Grogu’s soft snores, and the quietness only space can provide to someone who had fought enough. He had his eyes closed, his head was tilting down, and nothing was on his mind but the register that he’s holding someone, and that he’s one step from falling asleep. 

But then, something brutally pulled him back. 

Din’s eyes opened so quickly that he’d even felt a little dizzy, disoriented on his position even though the ship wasn’t nearby shaking. His breath was sharp inside his helmet, and Fennec only observed him carefully as Din immediately looked at Grogu. 

“Is anything wrong?” She asked, not adding further to his worries. 

“No,” then, Din noticed that his voice was weak. “I’m just… Unquiet.” 

Fennec thoughtfully hums, resting her back on the seat. “We’re going to take some time until we land on Nevarro, so I’d suggest that you get some rest. No one is going to get away with your child again.”

Just the mere thought of it made Din flinch on his seat, something unintentionally sharp on her sentence made him feel uncomfortable as if hitting on a badly healed wound. 

“Okay,” that’s the only thing he says. 

  
  


Sunlight burns his skin under the beskar. 

An immeasurable pain made Din weaker than he could even think he could be. As he opened his eyes with difficulty, he tried to breathe, but all that was inhaled was smoke from the burning metal and gasoline of Slave I, destroyed in half. Din tried to do something, but his right foot was stuck in wreckage and a large shrapnel crossed the left region of his waist, leaving him in a state of helplessness. 

On his side, part of the ship was gone, broken, leaving him with a blurry sight of what reminded him from Nevarro’s familiar ground. 

Nobody is inside. It’s empty, except for him. 

Din tried to call Grogu as the first thing that crossed his mind, but it was useless: his voice wasn’t anyhow closer to a whisper, but a breath left behind. He tried once again, his vocal chords tearing, putting the majority of his effort into trying to take the shrapnel out of him and failing. His hands were unstable, he couldn’t make himself stop trembling in something he couldn’t say what it was. Pain, fear, despair… 

Grogu. Where was he. 

Where he— Where he could even start with, lying on a puddle of his own blood, his foot stuck, immobilized. 

Din didn’t know, yet, he called for Grogu. Didn’t even hear his own voice, didn’t even measure whether he shouted a short shriek or a long scream, didn’t even feel how miserable he sounded — he just wanted Grogu to hear him. Just hoped that he could hear him and scream back whenever he is. He just…

He couldn’t breathe. 

Din brutally coughed, his throat and lungs burning while doing it so. All he could do was to exhale, but that only worsened his condition, letting the remaining fresh air escape his lungs and making it hard to catch his breath. Feels like something stronger than him blocked him, and each time he inhaled, his chest weighed by another unsuccessful effort. 

He tried, and no matter how he might try, he couldn’t. 

He simply couldn’t. 

Din would fail no matter what. 

  
  


Something pulled him back again. Thankfully. 

At first, he jumped in his seat. That was his body doing the work when someone placed their hands on his shoulders and gently tried to wake him up, because when he hardly opened his eyes, his eyelids somehow way too heavy than his exhaustion, his conscience seemed to be broken into a puzzle, and slowly he was receiving the pieces to put them back together. 

At second, Din briefly registered the muffled, quite blurry voice sounding concerned towards him. 

Then, at third but not least, the child. He’s there. 

“Are you okay?” Boba asks, and his voice is clearer than ever on Din’s ears. 

Din is catching his breath, his chest hurting like hell when he quickly glances at Grogu, carrying confusion on his face but safe within his hold. Then, he returns to Fett. 

“Are we on Nevarro?” It was his first worry to leave his mouth. He sounded pathetically breathless, and he hoped that Fett — and Fennec, behind him — wouldn’t notice it although it was very reasonable. 

“Yes,” he answers, and Din sighs in relief. “You are safe now, Mandalorian. Breathe.” 

Even when Din feels slightly embarrassed under their perspectives, it is relieving to properly inhale and feel fresh air plaguing his lungs. Fett takes his hands off him, and as Fennec gives him another careful glance before stepping out of the ship, he doesn’t follow. 

Din lowers his head to Grogu. He had to gather strength before standing up, but that dream was too brutal and the awakening was even more to be perfectly fine just after, as if he hadn't faced anything. Fett can see it. 

“I asked you something and you didn’t answer me,” he says, but not in an offended tone. “Was it bad?” 

Din held the urge to ask what, exactly, he wanted to hear about being bad. 

Instead, he nodded. “Pretty much,” he answers. “All of it.” 

That was the only thing Fett would hear from him. 

When Din finally stood up, Fett still kept his stare over him. He’s too cautelous, too observant, at the same time too caring without seeming so. Din can feel it when he helps him to get steady on his feet. 

“They’re gone by now,” he says. “Take this time to get some food, a warm shower and sleep. Use it for recovering your wounds as well. Both of you will need it before getting back on your journey.” 

Din isn’t sure how he’d feel safe under that reassurance, nor didn’t know if he’d allow himself to even feel secure of doing so. Yet, he listened to his advice.

“Thank you,” he answers, and Grogu coos as well, getting Boba’s attention. 

Fett nodded, walking away without leading him as well, but letting him have a moment alone with his child. Then, Din’s attention is drawn to Grogu as he looks up, his gaze curious, so much wonder in his eyes that makes him forget all the terror he went through to see them again. 

“I’m fine,” he tells him, and Grogu tilts his head to the side. “We’re gonna be okay.” 

But deep down, he knows that he spoke that mostly for himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! any comments appreciated.


End file.
